


Amongst the killing

by Brkencxts



Category: And Then There Were None (TV 2015), And Then There Were None - Christie
Genre: Agatha Christie - Freeform, And Then There Were None, F/M, Fluff, Reader-Insert, Smart Reader, Spoilers, aidan turner - Freeform, solving murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-18 02:49:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21520642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brkencxts/pseuds/Brkencxts
Summary: There he stood, that lethal, sick and unbelievably handsome bastard. A towel wrapped around his waist to protect at least a bit of his dignity though..“21 men then, Mr. Lombard.”“Your very own family then, Ms. (l/n).”
Relationships: Philip Lombard/Reader
Kudos: 22





	Amongst the killing

**Author's Note:**

> First time uploading on AO3 so I hope I did it correctly.  
> Warnings: Bad writing, fluff, one small heated section, slight nudity I guess, mention of murder  
> Reader gender: Female  
> A/N: There is seriously too little for And Then There Were None. It’s an amazing BBC series (which is watchable on YouTube so I highly recommend it!) and Philip Lombard is such a handsome and interesting man played by Aidan Turner.

There he stood, that lethal, sick and unbelievably handsome bastard. A towel wrapped around his waist to protect at least a bit of his dignity though.. With the way he was hooking his thumb at the edge of the towel, it looked like he was ready to pull it off at any given moment.  
“21 men then, Mr. Lombard.”  
“Your very own family then, Ms. (l/n).”  
(Y/n) chuckled a little, wrapping her robe around her a little tighter and shaking her head a little.  
“It was self-defense, I had no choice but to grab that knife; they simply chose to run into it.”  
“I think you’re much more innocent than what they charged you with but so much more dangerous than you think, Ms. (l/n).”  
“(Y/n). My name is (y/n).”  
Philip nodded a little, his warm brown eyes staring right into (y/n)’s (e/c) ones.  
“Philip.” Was all he said in return.  
Then Blore walked out of the room, glaring a little at Lombard, followed by Armstrong and Wargrave.  
“Nothing,” Armstrong said, “Absolutely nothing.”  
“Now what,” Blore asked. It was clear that his patience was wearing thin and everyone had already been on edge lately. There was no one they could trust, there were only five of them left, in less than three days the other five were killed and it was unsettling in the least.  
“We search the house.” (y/n) muttered and glanced away from Blore’s angry stare that was directed towards her for such a suggestion.

Nowhere. Nothing. They looked everywhere and Philip’s revolver was nowhere to be seen.

Ten little soldier boys went out to dine; one choked his little self and then there were nine.  
Nine little soldier boys sat up very late; one overslept himself and then there were eight.  
Eight little soldier boys travelling in Devon; one said he’d stay there and then there were seven.  
Seven little soldier boys chopping up sticks; one chopped himself in half and then there were six.  
Six little soldier boys playing with a hive; A bumble-bee stung one and then there were five.  
Five little soldier boys going in for law; one got in chancery and then there were four…

“(Y/n), you’re talking in yourself again, darling.” Philip whispered in her ear from behind before he walked past her and turned to face her with a slightly worried look in his eyes.  
“Sorry,” she muttered in reply and shook her head a little, “It just doesn’t make any sense; nowhere in that nursery rhyme is a gun mentioned, not even once.”  
“Yeah, but there wasn’t a hive here either and yet Ms. Brent got stung by a bee.”  
(Y/n) nodded slowly, overthinking the rhyme up to the four. But then she remembered;

Four little soldier boys going out to sea; a red herring swallowed one and then there were three.  
Three little soldier boys walking in the Zoo; A big bear hugged one and then there were two.  
Two little soldier boys sitting in the sun; one got frizzled up and then there was one.  
One little soldier boy left all alone; he went and hanged himself and then there were none.

In the house, there was one particular spot they didn’t look because, while they did tear apart the furniture, they didn’t do that with everything.  
Suddenly (y/n) dashed off to the living room, curious eyes following her every move.  
“If it’s not where I think it is, we have to look outside but we got to go together or else the nursery rhyme will be finished a little faster than we anticipate.”  
Philip, Armstrong, Wargrave and Blore looked at one another with each and everyone a confused look in their eyes; one of them for a whole different reason.  
She went down on her knees in front of the polar bear carpet and tilted it’s head up and there it was. A beautiful black revolver and a master key laid inside it’s mouth.  
“How did you know?” Blore asked with suspicion filling his voice.  
Philip on the other hand was more than happy with the finding and immediately knelt down beside (y/n), wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he pulled her into a sideways hug and grabbed the gun with his free hand.  
“The poem,” (y/n) simply replied to Blore and chuckled softly when Philip pressed his lips to the top of her head.  
“It’s full of clues and I went through it. It had to be here inside the house for nobody has seen anybody leave the house. We would’ve heard the door open and close if somebody had actually gone out. Then I remembered that we missed one spot; the bear from the zoo part.”  
“You really are a smart woman, (y/n), who’s to say you’re not our killer?”  
Wargrave asked with a small smile around his lips.  
“Because,” she started and stared him straight in the eyes, “I can’t possibly think why I would know all of you as a woman who ran away for most of her life. Unlike a judge, a detective or a general or even a mercenary who might have heard of us due to cases or for a mission.”  
Then her eyes went over each and every man in the room.  
“I’ll be taking my leave now, thank you very much for your time.”

“You know who it is.”  
(Y/n) turned around and smiled at the oh so familiar Irish accent that filled the silence in her room.  
She had taken off her robe and was left in her underwear, well aware that Philip’s eyes were roaming over her body, taking everything in he could see right now and concluding that she was, in fact, very beautiful.  
“Has nobody told you that it is impolite to stare at a woman who is undressing herself, much less barge in on her changing clothes without knocking on the door.”  
“Perhaps somebody did at some point. It’s not like I care much about formalities much at the moment, (y/n).”  
(Y/n) laughed softly and sat down on the bed behind her as Philip approached her slowly. He was still in his towel and looked quite intimidating as he towered over her. Their eyes once again staring at one another but always glancing at the other’s lips.  
“You know who it is.” Philip repeated, but much softer this time.  
“I do, how did you know?”  
“You seemed set on ratting him out back there when you found my gun. Why didn’t you?”  
“Because if he wants some theatrical way to punish us, I think it’s only fair if there will be a theatrical way to sell him out.”  
Philip chuckled darkly, the noise coming from somewhere in his chest and it did certain things to (y/n); her automatic response being crossing her legs and clenching them together just a little.  
“How did you find out?”  
“I had my suspicions and I bet you had your instinct. When you said when we had recently arrived on this island that you were taking the piss when you suggested Wargrave, I knew you were onto something and while you began to sway away from your very first instinct, I just knew you and your instinct were right the first time.”  
“You’re right as was he; you really are a smart woman.”  
Philip knelt down in front of her, placing a hand on either knee and pushing them apart slightly so he fit in between there.  
Their eyes never left one another as he leaned up towards her, slowly bringing a hand up to cup her cheek.  
(Y/n) could’ve sworn she had never seen the mercenary so careful, so gentle, in all the time he had been on the island.  
Then his lips touched hers, just a simple and gentle touch, nothing more, nothing less. It was almost like she would disappear if he dared to press a little harder.  
“Be mine.” He whispered softly.  
His lips were unexpectedly soft and left a pleasant tingle on her own when they moved. His breath was warm on her skin.  
“Of course.” She whispered back and she was barely done speaking when Philip had pressed his lips fully against hers in a passionate kiss. Their lips moving together in sync and Philip’s hand, the one on her knee, slowly moved higher and higher, pulling light gasps from her lips.  
Before Philip got the chance to really please her, three knocks on the door pulled them away from one another and the door opened.  
Blore entered the room, covering his eyes as he stood at the entrance,  
“Ms. (l/n)? Wargrave is asking for you, something about lunch?”  
“I’ll be down in a few.”  
Then the door closed and Philip laughed softly, pulling (y/n) close to him with that infamous smirk of his.  
“You really are some kind of woman.”  
“As long as I’m yours, it’s okay.”  
“Of course, darling.”  
And then he kissed her once more amongst the killing.


End file.
